Fw: The Radio
Posted by: bigguyhereagain <bigguyhereagain@...>
It was a cold evening in upper New York State, it looked like it could snow. The mountain roads were damp with sheets of ice, so it was strange to see a four door sedan speeding recklessly through the night. Inside the car was a woman probably in her late thirties looking at the road as if in a trance. She wasn't aware of the tires squealing on the turns. You see it didn't matter to her if she ran off the road and crashed into the valley below, because she was going to kill herself.
We don't know why her life had no meaning to her any more. It could have been a bad marriage or the abortion of a child, whisky or dope. The main thing was she had no where to turn, no one to trust, no one including herself that thought her life had any value. She had come up this road before. But tonight she was determined she would make it to the top and then off the road and into the gorge.
Upset and nervous she switched on the radio to calm down until she reached the top. A calm voice came on and she listened, it was a minister. She had never been very religious even as a child, her family was always to busy for church. This man was talking about Jesus. How much He loved us, how He died for us. She wished she had something to die for. Something besides putting an end to her problems.
The minister was inviting people to the service now, he was giving the address of the church. It was a country church on the same highway she was on. A small town up ahead. She had been through it before. It was almost to the top of the mountain. She might stop and find out more about this man Jesus and what He died for. She would like to have a purpose to her death, something besides escaping her miserable life.
As she went into the Church the same man with the quite voice was speaking. Her mind was still not functioning well but she was picking up some of the words. This is love: not that we loved God, but that He loved us and sent His Son ... "Because he loves me" says the Lord, "I will rescue him" ... "I will not forsake you, I will never leave you" ... The time passed and tears were running down her eyes. The service was over and the man was calling people to be saved. He was staring at her. She knew he was talking to her. She quietly got up and walked down the aisle and knelt before him as she dedicated her life to Jesus.
She felt new, clean, her troubles were just a memory. People were smiling at her and hugging her. Two people said they loved her, another asked if she would come back and join them. The minister brought his wife to meet her. She smiled at the minister and thanked him. She said "my life was almost over when I heard your broadcast." "What do you mean sister?" "Your radio broadcast, I heard it in the car right before I came in." "Sister we are a very small church we don't have a radio broadcast."
We fear promises. They cut off other possibilities. But only so that we can
give ourselves unstintingly to this person, this place, this purpose. Promises
are commitments which actually free us from endless floundering and
indecision. By promises we go from superficial wine-tasting or grazing to the real
banquet of life. We give ourselves to this person or this undertaking and stop
looking over our shoulder to see if there is something else we're rather do,
somewhere else we'd rather be, someone else we'd rather love. No one is suggesting,
God forbid, that a college sophomore has to decide now on a career or life's
companion. Edison checked out hundreds of filaments, including carbonized
bamboo, before settling on the right one for his light bulb. Commitment means that
after a decent search we do choose engineering or teaching or Bill Schwarz
rather than Pat Olson. That we quit looking for some impossible blend of Cindy
Crawford and Mother Teresa. Often our outrageous expectations of others only
mask our own unwillingness to change. We need practice for the big commitments.
Here and now it means beginning with manageable promises; to stay with an
exercise regime three times a week or with prayer every evening, to produce what
is promised on time, to take out the garbage. Our commitments reflect God's
untiring love for us and are fueled by it. "The steadfast love of the Lord never
ceases, it is new every morning" (Lamentations 3:22-23). The love of him who
loved even to death on a cross makes it possible for us to be faithful to
commitment.
A woman was asked by a coworker, "What is it like to be a Christian?"
The coworker replied, "It is like being a pumpkin.
God picks you from the patch, brings you in, and washes all the dirt off of
you.
Then he cuts off the top and scoops out all the yucky stuff.
He removes the seeds of doubt, hate, greed, and then he carves you a
new smiling face and puts His light inside of you to shine for all the world
to see."
This was passed on to me from another pumpkin.
Now, it is your turn to pass it to a pumpkin.
I liked this enough to send it to all the pumpkins in my patch.
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